My first love

When I was in kindergarten, there was this boy -- let's call him Beng (for purposes that you will come to see). Every (school) day, I would get the full "I love you" whisper and peck on the cheek treatment from him. Every single time, I would turn beet red -- I would smile back, but I don't remember ever reciprocating either gesture. (I would appear to carry this trait of stoicism -- as well as propensity for blushing -- with me as I got older, but that's another story for another time.)

During the school holidays, we'd talk on the phone -- sometimes for whole days. I remember getting so restless that I would be under the chairs, the tables -- over and under everything within the radius of the phone cord. Still, we'd talk until the phone receivers were hot enough to poach an egg on. What did we talk about? That's the mystery.

I'd assumed that this was the guy I was destined to marry -- way before I knew the many things that a marriage entailed.

Once, as we were forming a circle for games, he'd reached out to punch a classmate of ours, Don (for short), for holding my hand, but ended up punching me instead. His face went green; already having a high threshold for pain then, I just looked on in amusement as our teacher fussed over me and handed out the appropriate punishment -- to both boys. (Poor Don.)

You can see why he fast became my knight in shiny armour; I didn't even care that he was clumsy and threw inaccurate punches -- hey, it's the thought that counts, right? ;)

All that, however, came to a screeching halt when one day -- in the middle of our lesson -- I saw him kissing my best friend, Eleanor (I don't remember how she spelt it); so did our teacher, and promptly sent them both to wash their mouths out. I don't even remember feeling heartbroken, or any such feelings that you would expect -- I just remembered being immensely grateful that I'd never been called out by the teacher all the times that I was on the receiving end of his kisses.

After that, I wasn't even angry with him -- I suppose there's something to be said about how quickly and readily children forgive and forget. I did wonder if he was going around kissing every single girl in our class, so some days, I'd try to avoid him and kept myself in full view of our teacher so that he wouldn't dare do anything. But mostly, I continued to let him tell me that he loved me, and give me that perfunctory peck -- because it felt good, I suppose.

Then we went on to primary school -- he to an all-boys school, me to an all-girls school. In our first year, we still talked on the phone, and pestered our mothers (who came to be good friends, because, you know, it's so cute that your kids are in luuuuurve) to bring us out to see each another now and then. But starting out in primary school was tough -- although, thankfully, it got a lot better -- and gradually the phone calls lessened, the trips stopped, and I never saw him nor talked to him for many years. I thought about him now and then, but mostly I was more interested in studying (geeky, I know) and how many pairs of shoes my Barbie doll had (the measure of "coolness" among girls at the time). He sent me cards during Christmas and Chinese New Year every year without fail -- I sent him a total of two cards in five years.

I was studying at McDonald's with X this very fateful day (by this time, I was already in secondary school, six or seven years since I'd last met him) -- when I heard someone called out my name. This boy, decked in his uniform the only way kids our age knew how -- shirt half-tucked in, pants too big for his frame -- came running towards me.

"It's really you! I can't believe I recognise you after all these years!" he heaved.

"I'm sorry, you are...?"

"You don't recognise me? I'm Beng! You know? From kindergarten?"

I almost fell out of my chair. "Bbbb... Beng! It's great to see you! I can't believe you recognise me after all these years!" Yeah, way to go on originality.

X will tell you that the only thing that she remembers, as he tried to carry on small talk with me, is that she didn't even have time to wonder who the guy was, because she was trying to hold down our tilting table, which he had put his hand on, and was leaning his entire weight upon.

We exchanged phone numbers (actually, he asked if my number was the same; I said yes, and he said he'd give me a call that night), and after he left, I explained to X who he was ("My kindergarten boyfriend, until I found that he was snogging every other girl in my class.") and apologised profusely for leaving her out in the cold while I collected myself. She never let me forget that.

We talked over the phone a few times, had lunch at McDonald's a couple of times, but I was bored by the guy; it was clear that we had different interests (to say the least). He asked if he could buy me a pager; I wondered why he couldn't just call me at home like he used to. My short-term ambition (or so I thought) was to do well enough in my exams to be able to take all three Sciences (Biology, Chemistry, Physics) the following year; his even-shorter-term ambition was to beat up a guy who stared at him the day before.

It all went downhill, and he knew it too. We had little in common, and frequently ran out of things to talk about. I was so relieved when he finally stopped calling. It was closure enough for us both, I think.

I've since spotted him a few times, out in town, but never once called out to him -- something I always feel guilty for. If he recognised me (which I don't think he did -- I cut my hair short for the first time, shortly after my encounter with him, and got rid of my glasses), he didn't stop me in my tracks either.

I don't know if he remembers me anymore, but I think of him very little these days. The reason why I was reminded of Beng was because -- you know the anti-drug abuse advertisement on our local screens these days, where at the end, the protaganist says (in Chinese): "Finally, when I was put away in jail, none of the friends whom I called 'brothers' came to see me. It was then that I realised that my greatest enemy was none other than myself." Yeah, Beng is there as one of his 'brothers.' His five two seconds of fame. :p It's a funny, funny world.